Kingdom Of Slaves
by Epsilon Sylvati
Summary: Somewhat of a cardverse AU. Revolves around the Nordics, but mainly Iceland. In a world divided by Kingdoms and diplomatic wars, Prince Emil must keep his new Kingdom safe. But with the approaching 'Darkness,' allies and enemies begin to blend together. (NorIce, HongIce, SuFin, MANY ICELAND PAIRINGS.) Sorry for the sucky summary!


Hello, everyone! So this was a plot bunny that kind of appeared out of nowhere. It's a spinoff of cardverse.

I aim to circulate the story mainly around Iceland (big surprise am I right?), but I want many other countries to have their own part as well. That being said, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.

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"Prince Emil, the meeting is due to start soon," the butler, Fannar, proclaimed, trailing a few paces behind the wandering prince.

"Yes, yes. I know," Emil bent down before a flowered bush, his fingers delicately tracing the curve of thorns sticking from the stem. He sighed. "I am simply stalling."

"Your brother will be none too pleased to hear of your...overly relaxed behavior," Fannar said politely, his wrinkled face blank as he watched his master's actions.

"Well, he is too far to do anything about it, isn't he? Besides," Emil paused, standing to stretch, "My kingdom is small and my people hardy. I have the precious time to relax, while he has little time to do anything."

"Let alone the time to visit his younger brother," Fannar muttered, then startled at the prince's raised eyebrow. "Forgive me, Prince Emil. I meant no disrespect. I simply find we are in need of Prince Lukas' presence.

"I prefer you to be truthful, Fannar, so there is no need for apologies," Emil led them further into the maze of the garden. Twisted, thorned plants curled around leafless trees and the dull green grass shone with dew. The air, ripe with spring, hung heavily with fog not ten feet from the eye. "But I don't need my brother."

"Yes, prince," Fannar responded, following his master obediently. They headed for the gazebo at the center of the wild, outgrown garden. The small structure, creaky and peeling with age, stood strong against even the evilest of winters.

"Ah, here we are," Emil said, the smallest of smiles quirking the corners of his mouth upwards.

The gazebo greeted them with the many chirps of birds, their nests built carefully in the eloquent curves of the roof. The view from the south side showed the castle, much smaller than Emil's brother's, but much more conventional. The north side gave view to the ruthless mountains beyond, snow littering the peaks and a sharp breeze escaping the valleys between. To the east was the private trail to the aforementioned mountains, perfect for a worthy steed's travel, and the west held the mysterious Fog Wood.

Fog Wood, named after the prominent fog procuring behind every tree, was said to be cursed with the spirits from a war long forgotten. Elves and other mythical creatures had been fabled to have built extravagant structures high above the fog, able to watch any passerby beneath their hidden homes. Many were fearful to pass, as they said the elves judged those wishing to visit the castle, killing any not to their standards. Disappearances had riddled the nearby city when Prince Emil first arrived, as many messengers and surrounding landowners came to congratulate him, though their presence only ever entered the woods, never escaping them. Because the Fog Wood was forbidden by all but a few, the castle rarely received visitors.

"Prince Emil, we really must be going," Fannar announced, his eyes judging the stopwatch within his ancient hand. Emil sighed, his hands rested lightly on the gazebo railing.

"Why could I not stay in the Kingdom with Prince Lukas? Why did they send me away?" the prince inquired, tired eyes observing the still trees of Fog Wood.

"You know why, Prince."

"Then tell me again," Emil said stubbornly, his mouth stretching in a yawn. Fannar obeyed, long used to the prince's pushy demands.

"The King needed a foothold against the other kingdoms. The brash King of Spades seemed to be looking at the Forbidden Lands with a lusty eye, and so your father acted accordingly. Your being sent here was to assure safety of your father's rule. As your brother will succeed your father as King of the Forbidden Lands, you will become King of the Mystic Isles," Fannar waited behind the Prince as, eventually, Emil led the way to the throne room.

"What use are these islands, though? There is no use of adding them to father's reign. The King of Spades was simply bluffing."

"And your father called it. With the ownership of the Mystic Isles, you own the stretch of ocean between the Kingdoms. You, Prince Emil, will be King of the most advantageous lands in the world."

Emil huffed.

"I have no desire to be king."

The duo entered the spacious throne room, surrounded by dark walls and countless candles. Antlers and animal skins hung here and there, draped as prizes won against the harsh nature of the isles. A long, decorated rug ran the length of the room, leading those entering the double doors to the throne itself. Emil neared the large chair, staring a moment before seating himself. Fannar positioned himself a bit behind and to the left of his master.

Emil looked to the armed guard in the corner of the room, waving him to open the doors.

"Let them in."

The doors opened with a loud screech. Beyond the large slabs of wood a group of men clambered into the room, straightening their coats and adjusting their hats. They bowed before the prince, then arose at Emil's command.

"What's the news?" Emil questioned, already bored of the dull meeting.

"A few young ones have entered the forest and have yet to return. The people wish for a search party, but deterring them will be simple. The law remains, as any who enter the woods enter at their own risk," the man at the front and center, clothed in poofy pants and a maroon hat, spoke officially. "In other events, we have news to bring from the King and Queen of the Badlands."

"Good day, Prince Emil," a man dressed in heavy, foreign clothing bowed briefly before the prince. "As the man says, I bring message from the Badlands."

"Why would the Badlands send messengers to the Mystic Isles? It seems much more reasonable to send messengers to the Forbidden Lands," Emil said, lounging in the uncomfortable throne chair.

"Messengers have been sent to the Forbidden Lands as well, but our royalty would like to assure help is from all the kingdom, not just the heart of it." Emil narrowed his eyes, leaning forward.

"And what would you need help with? We are a growing nation and have naught to give," Prince Emil strained to remember the King and Queen of the Badlands. He remembered the Queen, albeit vaguely. The man, formally named Tino Vainamainen, had a reputation as being a kind ruler, though was notorious as a killer shot.

"We need only your word of support against future evils, ser. The Darkness appears to have spread dangerously close to the Badlands."

Emil frowned. His father had sent letters regarding the blasted evil spreading from the west. Something nicknamed 'The Darkness' bloomed at the far reaches of the Kingdom of Spades, yet had made an appearance far to the east as well. Experts estimated The Darkness did not have an origin, no, but instead thrived in the very grounds people walked upon. Like a black flower, the Darkness sprouted in random places and the seeds flowered in the wind across the Kingdoms.

"As I said, there is naught to give from my kingdom. We are plagued by the mysteries of our own land, let alone another that has yet to personally pertain to us. I bid you my apologies, truly, but I fear there is nothing I can do to help."

"But there is, Prince Emil. We need a place to send our people should the Badlands fall. We ask your father, as well as yourself, only for a place of temporary residency."

The Prince clenched his jaw. In all honesty, this was the first time such a court of importance was held, at least when all judgement was to come from Emil. The pressure felt suffocating, and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"I understand your predicament, messenger, but time is needed to think over the topic. If the situation is as dire as you say, then I cannot simply answer at the moment."

"Pray, please let your answer come swiftly then, Prince Emil," the messenger, looking quite nervous, bowed once more. The others appeared to be in preparation to take their leave, though they paused as Emil held a hand against their haste.

"Please, have a comfortable stay while you wait. I apologize once more, and ask you to remain patient," Prince Emil nodded politely to the group, to which they seemed much more at ease. They bid farewell and exited the champers in a flourish of bright fabric.

oOoOoOo

Emil walked the garden that night, as he always did. The full moon reflected off the blooming Moonlights; their soft, white petals waved in the cool breeze. The garden was a haven of beauty and danger as shadows stretched over the thorny bushes.

Fannar had been dismissed to his chambers, and so Emil was utterly alone, exposed to the endless, starry sky enveloping the island. The ocean beyond the mountain trail was uneasy, whitecaps able to be seen all the way from the gazebo. Emil sighed, sitting heavily on the wooden bench in the center of the structure.

Admittedly, Prince Emil would have never left the Forbidden lands if he'd been allowed to choose. He prefered the city life. Emil loved to paint, a pastime he found most enjoyable, and missed the days he spent in the parlor overlooking the bustling civilization just outside the window. Many aday he found himself speaking with the people of the Kingdom, buying trinkets from small, unknown shops and partaking in the festivals, though he often remained in the shadows for such events. Here, though, everything was different.

Before Emil was sent, the Mystic Isles were all but deserted. The few indigenous people inhabiting the island were hesitant at receiving a King, but they, for some odd reason, deemed Emil a worthy leader.

The Mystic Isles were much darker than the Forbidden Lands, and a dank musk loomed over the land. The very air seemed a tint bluer, and rain was common. The land supported nature at its most ruthless, the very heart of the land an overgrown forest of mystery and the unknown. While the Mystic Isles was home to witches and mages, the Forbidden Lands was home to merchants and healers. The Forbidden Lands bustled with life, and the Mystic Isles bustled with fear and exotic birds. One such creature perched itself upon the railing, tilting its head at Emil.

"What are you going to do?" the bird asked, it's voice rough. Emil made a face, looking at the puffin.

"It was pleasant and quiet before you showed up," the Prince mumbled, shooing away the bird with his hand. However, the bird only shook itself out.

"I should be the one saying that," the puffin responded, glaring. Emil rubbed his hands together, giving another annoyed look at the bird.

"I didn't ask to be sent here," the prince said," And trust me, I would go home if I could."

"Blah, blah, blah. You complain too much," the bird flapped his wings, hovering above the railing. He gave a piercing squawk before soaring above the garden, headed for the castle. Emil disregarded him, turning back to the ocean. His mind floated, and the endless waters reminded him of the inevitable: he was completely alone.

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Soo, I have no idea what I'm doing with this. I have a semi-plot forming, though I don't know if it's worth pursuing. I may upload a few chapters and see what you guys think.

Anyways, thanks for reading!


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